


rolling boy

by pyrality



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, Tickling, kagami is a big gay baby but so is himuro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrality/pseuds/pyrality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himuro comes to realize that they’ve become really good at fumbling around with each other when it comes to their feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rolling boy

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not sure why I wrote slowburn KagaHimu when slowburn KagaHimu makes me want to pull my intestines out through my mouth. Just take this fic please I really don't want to look at it anymore.

Himuro is startled when he first realizes how badly he wants to kiss Kagami. The redhead presses the back of his hand over his mouth to try and hide his smile, his cheeks are flushing as he tries to swallow his giggles, and Himuro realizes with a sinking feeling and elevating heartrate that he's likely been smitten with this boy since their childhood.  
  
He only feels slightly guilty when he presses in close and slides his hands under Kagami's shirt. The redhead yelps, startled expression morphing into helpless, bright glee as he squirms when Himuro starts tickling up and down his sides.  
  
"Tatsu, you're not fair—" Kagami gasps in between fits of laughter, hands scrambling to latch onto Himuro's wrists. He arches reflexively from sensitivity and Himuro feels himself blush when the younger's strong body presses flush against his own for a brief moment. "Tatsu—"  
  
Even with his wrists grabbed and his hands stilled, Himuro wiggles his fingers against Kagami's smooth, warm skin, reveling in Kagami's yelp. The redhead releases his grip on his wrists, instead delving to slide his own hands along Himuro's sides.  
  
The Yosen player jolts, embarrassed by the whine that escapes his mouth at the light and teasing press of Kagami's fingers against his hips. The redhead grins, wiggling his fingers and Himuro backpedals.  
  
"Taiga," he gasps, trying not to stare at the way Kagami's expression has lit up at his laughter. "Truce?"  
  
Himuro’s back bumps against the wall and his heartrate skyrockets when he realizes how close he and Kagami are. The Seirin ace's grin melts away as well when he realizes what position they're in. Instead, his lips curve in a self-conscious shy half-smile as his cheeks flush. Kagami slides his hands down, solid and big and warm, and presses them to the curve of Himuro's hips beneath his low-riding jeans.  
  
"Tatsu," Kagami breathes, soft, eyes alight with affection. He squeezes Himuro's hips lightly.  
  
Himuro wonders if maybe the feeling is mutual and if they've both been dumb idiots. He doesn't get a chance for an answer because the sound of their soft breathing is interrupted by noisy keys against the lock of Kagami's door.  
  
The redhead jolts from him like a startled animal, backing up to a respectable distance by the time Alex has opened the door and shouted her greetings.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Kagami falls asleep on his shoulder while the movie is still running. Himuro blearily rubs at his own eyes as he tugs the blanket up around them with his other hand and tucks one end between his hip and the armrest to keep it from slipping down again. The redhead is warm against his side, almost too hot, but the dark-haired teen snuggles closer anyway. He slides an arm around Kagami’s waist and keeps his fingers loosely pressed to the jut of his hipbones beneath his sweats. Yawning and a little flushed, Himuro leans his head against the top of Kagami’s against his shoulder, and falls asleep immediately.

  
When Himuro wakes up, they’re a tangled mess with Kagami’s frame crushing his into the sofa. He stares up at the ceiling, face heated, as he thinks of the bruises he’ll have where Kagami’s pressed hard into his body. The redhead’s elbow is buried in Himuro’s stomach, his hip is digging against his thigh, and his knee is crushing Himuro’s lower leg. Kagami snuffles, nosing against Himuro’s neck, and the black-haired teen sighs and smiles, closing his eyes.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Himuro feels tight in his chest when he realizes Kagami’s domain has grown while he was gone. The Seirin team is enthralled with his playing ability, as are his various opponents and rivals, and his group of friends has extended to the majority of the Generation of Miracles and their respective teams. 

(Kuroko, in particular, is a watchful eye from the shadows, close and friendly enough with Kagami that Himuro wonders if there’s something there beneath the surface of the small teen’s pretty pale skin and slight, bony frame.)  
  
Himuro wonders if he’s allowed to fit in again into Kagami’s life so easily; he feels scared by the way the redhead touches him so casually, like their attached-at-the-hip childhood friendship was never spoiled by his poisonous jealousy and envy.   
  
Kagami bumps his shoulder against Himuro’s when they walk, knuckles brushing against the back of his hand, and he doesn’t apologize or even bat an eyelash, as though it were normal and natural. He says something and laughs, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, and his shoulder rubs against Himuro’s again, a lingering and noticeable pressure.  
  
(Does he walk this closely next to Kuroko? Himuro can’t remember.)  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Kuroko's eyes are sharp, coral blue and bright skies, and penetrating. He wraps his lips around his straw, humming before he sips at his vanilla shake. There's a hint of a smile curving his lips as he pulls off the straw to speak.

  
"Kagami-kun seems happier lately," he comments casually, eyes flickering down to his book resting atop the table. He reaches up and slips his finger behind his bookmark and tugs the novel open. His gaze flickers up to meet Himuro's briefly. "He's more in a rush to get home nowadays since you started coming to Tokyo for the weekends and skyping more often during the weekdays."  
  
"Sorry," slips out of Himuro's mouth before he can think twice. He must be sapping up Kagami’s time to hang out with the blue-haired teen.  
  
Kuroko smiles, coy and knowing. He traces a pale finger down the page, lashes flaring as he tilts his head to look down at the novel. He’s pretty, Himuro thinks, with his pale, unblemished skin and sharp, epicurean cotton candy blue eyes. He’s dangerous though, underneath his pretty appearance, and Himuro warily watches him as he waits for him to speak.  
  
"I'm not unhappy, Himuro-kun. I apologize for making it sound like an accusation.” Kuroko smiles at something he's read before meeting Himuro's gaze again. "I'm glad the two of you have reconciled.”  
  
The dark-haired teen cups his hands against his warm coffee cup, silent as he drops his eyes down to the steam curling out of the vent hole in the plastic lid.  
  
“I apologize for any trouble I’ve indirectly caused you.”  
  
Kuroko hums. “That’s pointless semantics now, Himuro-kun,” he says, tone unexpectedly sharp, and Himuro can spot the warning glint in his eyes as they narrow from the corner of his own. “I don’t need your apologies. I would like a future where you do not feel the need to say sorry to me.”  
  
Himuro meets his gaze evenly after a moment, feels glad even as he feels jealous that Kagami has such a good and close friend watching his back.  
  
“I’ll take good care of him from now on,” he promises quietly.  
  
Kuroko holds his gaze for a few moments before he looks outside the window, seeming pleased, voice softer when he speaks again.  
  
“I am glad to hear that."  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
“I met Kuroko the other day,” Himuro says passingly, trying to feign indifference. He eyes the redhead from the corner of his eye. “We sat down to talk. He’s quite polite and he seems… nice,” he says, deciding not to say anything about how Kuroko seems to be made of steel under porcelain.  
  
“Kuroko’s so fucking volatile,” Kagami snorts, snickering in personal amusement and Himuro feels himself twitch in jealousy at the look of fondness in the other’s eyes as he speaks. “He just seems sweet, but he’ll totally ignite pass your dick if you make him angry."  
  
Himuro blinks, forces himself to smile as he clicks the pause button on his controller. Kagami startles, glancing over at him.  
  
“You alright?” he asks in confusion.  
  
Himuro hums, pushing his bangs up with his hand absently, just so his restless hands aren’t still. “I’m surprised you never tried anything with him.”  
  
Kagami lights up like a firecracker, red under tan skin, and looks away. “Kuroko’s—“ He rubs a hand over the lower half of his face, but Himuro doesn’t miss the nervous flicker of his tongue over his lips before he covers his mouth. “I mean, he’s…” Kagami pauses and Himuro feels his stomach clench when his voice drops to an embarrassed whisper before he continues, “ … he’s cute, but he’s not my type."  
  
“What’s your type then?” Himuro asks out of curiosity before he can stop himself. He bites his tongue afterwards, internally berating himself. He’s not going to like the answer so why ask?  
  
Kagami squirms, curling in on himself defensively, and he looks so young and boyish instead of broad-shouldered and intimidating like he did when Himuro first saw him after their year apart. The redhead scratches the back of his head, teeth catching on his lips nervously.  
  
“Uh well, actually… I kind of like guys more like Kise,” he mumbles finally. He’s red to the tips of his ears, still avoiding Himuro’s gaze when he continues, “And uh… Midorima."  
  
Himuro blinks. Kagami likes pretty faces? He wouldn’t have expected. With the easy comfort of his interactions with Kuroko versus the rough and sensual aggression he has when dealing with Aomine, Himuro figured he knew what Kagami’s interests were.  
  
“Can we get back to the game now?” the redhead asks, squirming as he finally meets Himuro’s eyes again.  
  
The older teen drops his gaze, feeling self-conscious. His hand fidgets against his scalp where he still has it pressed from pushing his bangs up. He feels warm under his skin, with his palm pressed against his forehead. “Do you have any hair clips?” he asks suddenly. “I want to get my hair out of my eyes.”  
  
Kagami lets out a breath as though relieved Himuro’s letting the topic drop. “Yeah, I think Alex left a few in the bathroom cabinet.”  
  
Himuro makes his way to the bathroom, shuts the door behind him, and leans back against it with a sigh. He presses a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes. He’s an idiot. The dark-haired teen shakes his head tiredly, bracing hands against the sink to glare at himself in the mirror before turning the faucet on to splash water on his face. The cold water helps cool him off but there’s still a furnace under the skin of his cheeks when he wonders if Kagami considers him attractive too. The Yosen player sighs, grabbing a hairclip off the counter. He takes a few deep breaths before leaving the bathroom.  
  
Himuro sits down absently, clipping his bangs up before reaching for his controller again. He turns when he feels Kagami’s gaze on him. The redhead is lightly flushed, mouth open a little in surprise.  
  
“Taiga?”  
  
Kagami jolts out of his reverie, turning sharply back to the TV screen. “Nothing! Let’s get back to the game,” he blurts out in a hurry, hands fidgeting against his controller. "I’ll make dinner after this round.”  
  
Himuro shrugs off the hopeful feeling in his stomach and clicks resume.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Himuro makes excuses for lingering in the kitchen to watch Kagami cook. He plucks the magnetic whiteboard off the fridge and hops onto the counter, swinging his legs absently as he doodles pictures using the dry erase marker every now and then.  
  
“Gonna chop some onions,” Kagami calls over his shoulder after awhile. “You should probably leave until I finish.”  
  
Himuro hums, continuing to doodle. “I don’t mind.”  
  
The redhead shrugs and starts chopping, sniffling after the first few chops, and Himuro stills, feeling guilty for wondering what Kagami looks like when he’s crying. He jolts out of his thoughts when Kagami makes a muted, pained noise and curses sharply under his breath. He tosses the whiteboard down and quickly hops off the counter to pace to the redhead’s side.  
  
“It’s nothing,” Kagami insists hurriedly, trying to hide his bleeding thumb. He sniffles, grinning, eyes crinkling. “Just got careless.”  
  
Himuro’s moving before he realizes it. He grabs Kagami’s hand in his own and dragging him over to the sink to rinse his hand under warm water. Kagami tenses in surprise before his stance relaxes.  
  
“Tatsuya, it’s fine, stop frowning so much,” he says gently, fondly.  
  
Himuro feels himself warm underneath his skin and keeps his gaze on their hands beneath the stream of water. “You need to be more careful,” he mutters.  
  
“You’re always there when I’m not.”  
  
Himuro turns to him, ready to lecture him when he sees the soft, unguarded look on Kagami’s still damp face. He falls silent with words stuck in his throat, finds himself reaching up with his other hand, the dry one, and pressing his fingers against Kagami’s wet cheeks. The redhead sucks in a sharp breath, keeps his gaze even, even as he starts to flush from the neck.  
  
“Taiga,” Himuro whispers, feeling like he’s just bared open his heart. He feels warm, embarrassed, and he leans forward, resting his forehead on Kagami’s shoulder. He squeezes his eyes shut, presses his nose against the strap of Kagami’s apron, smells faint traces of cologne. “I’m not your big brother anymore.”  
  
Kagami tenses, squeezes Himuro’s hand under the spray of water before pulling his hand away and turning the faucet off. They stay still for a few moments, with Kagami’s wet hand by his side, dripping water steadily on the tile floor.  
  
“I know, Tatsu,” he says finally, voice shaky with an uneven breath. “We’re... more than that.”  
  
Himuro pulls away like he’s been scalded, hot under his cheeks, unable to meet Kagami’s gaze. “Taiga—"  
  
“Tatsuya,” the redhead says, firmer, cupping his damp hand to Himuro’s waist. The warmth of his hand and the water bleeds in through the dark-haired teen’s shirt, an uncomfortable hot and damp press of cotton against his skin. “I’m an idiot, but you’ve always been there and I don’t—" His voice breaks and Himuro jolts, snapping his gaze up to Kagami to find his expression pinching and the look in his eyes vulnerable. “I’m scared of losing you again,” he confesses quietly, looking down at the ring hanging around Himuro’s neck. “I don’t want that.”  
  
“Taiga,” Himuro whispers, fierce, sharp, and his heart aches when Kagami flinches at his tone, “I’m not going to _leave_ you. I know that’s hard for you to believe, but I swea—"  
  
Kagami fisting his other hand in Himuro’s shirt, knuckles pressing against his waist, a strangled and vulnerable sound in his throat when he leans forward and presses his forehead to Himuro’s. His eyes are pinched closed, and Himuro’s skin feels raw and dry when he sees the redhead’s eyes are damp at the corners. Kagami breathes, ragged, fingers tight on his skin, and Himuro thinks he might be crying.  
  
_He remembers Alex just a few days before, cupping her hands on his cheeks, eyes warm behind her glasses as she kissed his forehead and whispered, “my baby boy,” against his skin with such affection the Yosen player suddenly felt like he was twelve again in the older woman’s grasp._  
  
_“You two are my dearest students,” she said when she pulled away to look at him. Himuro knows that “students” is synonymous with “sons”._  
  
_(He’s never told her that when he was fifteen, he saw that medical form she left on her kitchen counter informing her she would never be able to have her own biological children. He pretended he didn’t know the reason why her eyes were red and puffy that day either; he was fifteen and he didn’t know what to say, should he have said something after all?)_  
  
_“Please watch over him,” she smiled and had looked sad and tired in ways that made Himuro ache deep in his chest. "You can deny it all you want, but the two of you love each other.”_  
  
_“Alex—"_  
  
_The blonde shook her head, pressed a finger to his lips, and smiled when he fell silent and closed his eyes before finally nodding._  
  
“Taiga, I’m sorry,” Himuro gasps, slipping closer, pressing his cheek along Kagami’s as he closes his arms around his waist and hugs him. “I’m sorry. You didn’t— You didn’t deserve any of it.”  
  
Kagami silently shakes his head against his shoulder and he can feel tears dripping onto his skin, but he also feels a hesitant smile pressed against his neck when the redhead nuzzles closer and for now, that’s enough. 


End file.
